


miss sugar pink liquor liquor lips

by thimble



Series: eternal game of tug and war [1]
Category: James Bond (Movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: F/F, Genderswap, Pre-Femslash, Q the fandom bicycle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-09
Updated: 2012-11-09
Packaged: 2017-11-18 07:59:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/558657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thimble/pseuds/thimble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"007," she says, which is enough to get her to sit back down. "I'm your new Quartermaster."</p><p>"You must be joking," 007 deadpans.</p><p>"Why? Because I'm a woman?" </p><p>007 pauses. "Because you don't look like you're about to keel over any second and die." </p><p>[Genderswap!00Q, because I can.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	miss sugar pink liquor liquor lips

"She's a handful," Eve tells her with a conspiratorial smile. Q rolls her eyes. It's not quite optimal to look away, even for a second when handling delicate equipment, but the moment called for it.

She picks up one of the modified Walther pistols, checking if it was up to par. "I bet you know all about that." 

"The woman's just come back from the grave," Eve says, as if Q needed reminding. "That _I_ put her into. It's hardly proper timing."

"Not to mention the state of our national security, but that's just a footnote." 

She gets a tug on the ponytail for that, but it's more than worth it. No one mentions it more than Eve, and a shadow falls on her face when she does.

Q hates that shadow.

So instead she laughs, grateful that the distraction worked, and reaches for a radio. She turns it in her fingers and tests its broadcasting capacity. "But you do get on?"

"I suppose," Eve sighs, and if there's any wistfulness in that breath, Q just barely caught it. She's read 007's file front to back _before_ she was even Q, and she's picked up more... hands-on information from others in the department. It's only bits and pieces, but Q's known for being good at putting things together.

(And taking things apart).

Maybe 007 is legendary for a reason, and she's ready to be surprised by the woman she's about to meet, but it takes a certain personality to be a double-oh and though it's careless to assume they're all the same, no one's ever asked for her input on that anyway. Two weeks ago she was introduced to 005 and he, after leering for a good ten minutes, had not so subtly dropped into the conversation that he was prone to going commando. She then gave him an earpiece to wear, because Q is nothing but a complete professional at all times, and told him to be careful, as it had a habit of self-destructing when their wearer is a complete twat. He doesn't come around Q-branch much, these days.

Eve notices her packing the gun, raising a slight brow.

"Do you want me to test that for you?" 

Q smacks her lip gloss, smiles. "No. Not this one."

-

Q sees 007 before she sees her. She picked the National Gallery for their rendezvous because she wanted to see, firsthand, how double-oh's attempt to blend in. So far she deduces that 007 is putting in the minimal amount of effort by _trying_ to look relaxed, like a regular museum-goer taking in a painting. Q squints at the painting 007 has chosen to wait on.

 _The Fighting Temeraire_. She fights a grin herself. It's strangely fitting, although despite 007's idea of a casual art fanatic, every nerve in her body seems to be standing in attention, hyperaware the way only a tigress could be. 

And, really. The wide-brimmed hat and dark sunglasses are one thing, but the blood-red dress hints at disdain, at the very least, for all conventional rules. 

The other end of that scale brings to mind a well-manicured middle finger.

This double-oh is _very_ used to getting her way, but that isn't something Q doesn't already know. She walks over and sits beside 007, who spares her a glance from the corner of the eye, which clouds with suspicion for a flicker of an instant. Then 007's shoulders lose the tension, or at least most of it, the distance between them maintained. Q is brushed away as quickly as she was noticed, which is just how she likes it. Oh, she would make _such_ a terribly good spy if she wasn't prenatally destined for hacking. Her university dean once said that if there hadn't been internet before she was born, she would have invented it.

(It wasn't all that complimentary. He told the board of directors that while they deliberated on expelling her for making unauthorized _improvements_ on the school network, all while they seemed less than qualified to be making judgments on anything past the 1800's. They looked like the kind of lot who would send a strongly worded 'cease and desist' to every spam email they received. 

Bloody luddites.)

-

"Always makes me feel a bit melancholy..."

Q talks first, because 007 certainly isn't going to. She lets her mouth run with bullshit from one semester of art history, enjoying herself. She looks at 007 every so often, whose mouth is pursed just so to betray mild irritation. Q wants desperately to laugh at the sight.

"What do you think?" she asks instead. 007 answers and it's clipped, nothing short of delightful. 

But then she stands, having had enough, so Q drops the act. 

"007," she says, which is enough to get her to sit back down. "I'm your new Quartermaster."

"You must be joking," 007 deadpans.

"Why? Because I'm a woman?" 

007 pauses. "Because you don't look like you're about to keel over any second and die." She gives Q a once-over again, not hiding it behind her sunglasses anymore. She doesn't as much frown, but her tone is laced with disbelief. 

"You're wearing a _pant suit_."

"And you're wearing _five-inch heels._ "

They go at it for a little while; Q even brings up her pajamas. She liked to think they were flirting, albeit harmlessly, although both of them knew better. She gives the last word to 007, who extends a hand.

"Q," she says; it's a start. Q resists calling her the name she saw in the file and returns the acknowledgement. After that she doesn't waste time handing over the equipment, speaking without stopping. It's not as elaborate as the shows previous Quartermasters must've put on for their double-oh's, but she's not anyone's gadget monkey. And when she's done, it's 007 who's left surprised, as if expecting more.

"Not exactly Christmas," she says, unimpressed. Q smirks, all too ready for that.

"What did you expect, an exploding pen?" She can still feel the corners of her mouth twitching upwards as she reaches into her pocket, bringing out a small black tube. "I thought this was more appropriate."

007 takes it from her, and she seems amused when she uncaps it. "Exploding lipstick?"

"A bit more fitting inside a clutch than a pen," Q explains, inwardly pleased at the reaction. "Two twists to the right for a quick touch up, and three in the opposite direction if your... _date_ needs livening up." Q would wink if she didn't have such a fine handle on her self-control.

"I'll be careful," 007 says, slowly, letting the velvet back in her voice. Q smiles.

That's what she likes to hear.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from 'Bubblegum Bitch' by Marina and the Diamonds. 
> 
> It had to be done, that's my only excuse. My personal fancasts are [Maggie Q](http://i.imgur.com/OiZqS.jpg) for Jane Bond, and [Rashida Jones](http://i.imgur.com/MVLtt.jpg) for Q (look at her! she's perfect!). Naomie Harris is Moneypenny, as in the film. This was just sort of an introduction, a test drive for the characters. There will be more.


End file.
